but Molly knew better than to take on an obvious runaway, not without having some facts. And something told her this child was so anxious to make herself indispensable that she’d eagerly attempt all sorts of things that would break every rule in the book.
“Here’s the deal. You tell me your name and your story. Then we’ll talk about a job.”
“Can’t talk with my mouth full,” the girl said, taking a bite of the sandwich to emphasize the point.
Molly shook her head, amused by the delaying tactic.
The girl gobbled down the rest of the sandwich, then looked longingly toward the fixings that were still on the counter. Molly made her a second sandwich, then held it just out of reach.
“Your mouth’s not full now, and I’m waiting,” she prodded.
The teen studied Molly’s face and apparently concluded that her patience was at an end. “Okay, my name’s Kendra,” she said at last.
“No last name?”
She shook her head, a touch of defiance in her eyes. “Just Kendra.”
“Where’d you run away from, Kendra?”
“Home.”
Molly grinned. “Nice try. Now give me some specifics.”
The girl sighed. “Portland.”
“Do you have family in Portland that’s likely to be going crazy looking for you?”
She shrugged. “I suppose.” Though she attempted to achieve a look of complete boredom, there was an unmistakable trace of dismay in her eyes.
“Then call them,” Molly said flatly. “If you want to stay here, that’s not negotiable. They need to know you’re safe.”
Huge tears welled up in Kendra’s eyes. “I can’t,” she said, then added with more belligerence, “I won’t.”
The ferocity of her response triggered all sorts of alarm bells. “Did someone at home hurt you?”
Kendra’s eyes widened as Molly’s meaning sank in. “Not the way you mean. No way,” she said.
She sounded so genuinely horrified that Molly couldn’t help feeling relieved. “Then what happened?” she asked, trying to think of other reasons a child this age might take off. Only one immediately came to mind. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
The girl regarded her indignantly. “I’m a kid. Are you crazy?”
Well, that was another relief, Molly thought. “Then what did make you leave home? Experience tells me that almost anything can be worked out, if everyone sits down and talks about it.”
Rather than giving Molly a direct answer, Kendra sent her a considering look. “Did you sit down and talk to whoever hurt you?”
Molly blinked at the question. “What are you talking about?”
“You were crying before, after you locked up. That’s why I didn’t speak to you sooner. People don’t cry unless somebody’s hurt them. Did you talk it out?”
Molly thought of Daniel’s refusal to talk, his refusal to even take her point of view into account. And after the miscarriage, she’d been the one who’d fallen silent. He’d made one overture, one attempt at an apology—probably at Patrick’s insistence—but she’d told him to stay the hell out of her life and slammed the door on him. So, no, she hadn’t followed her own advice and talked it out. What was there to say?
“You didn’t, did you?” Kendra prodded. “So why should I have to? Just because I’m a kid?”
“You have a point,” Molly admitted, impressed by the girl’s quick grasp of things. “But letting you stick around here and giving you a job could get me into a whole lot of trouble. You’re a minor in the eyes of the law, even if you think you’re old enough to be on your own.”
Kendra gave her another one of those too-grown-up looks. “What’s the alternative? You don’t give me a job and I keep running,” she said simply. “Do you honestly want that on your conscience? The next place I stop, the people might not be so nice.”
Well, hell, Molly thought. She definitely did not want that on her conscience. “One week, max,” she said very firmly. “And you open up to me. I’ll try to help you figure out the best thing to do.”
“If that means calling my parents, it’s not going to happen,” Kendra said stubbornly.
Molly was equally determined to see that it did, but she merely said, “We’ll see.”
Now that her immediate fate was settled, Kendra gave her a hopeful look. “I don’t suppose you have any of that apple pie left, do you? I could smell it when you brought it to those guys in the booth next to me. It smelled awesome.”
“Yes, there’s pie left.” Her cook always baked enough for at least two days, because it was a customer favorite.
“And ice cream? I’m pretty sure there was ice cream on their pie.”
Molly chuckled. “Yes, there’s ice cream. When was the last time you ate?” she asked as she cut a slice of pie and set it in front of Kendra, then added a large scoop of vanilla ice cream.
“A trucker bought me a couple of doughnuts this morning,” Kendra said as she dug into the dessert.
“Please tell me you were not hitching rides,” Molly said.
Once again, Kendra regarded her indignantly. “What? Do I look stupid? I know better than to get in a car or a truck with a stranger, especially some guy.”
“Well, thank heavens for that.”
“This was a lady trucker, and she was in this place where my bus stopped. She must have felt sorry for me or something, ’cause she offered to buy the doughnuts. I could have bought them for myself, but I figured I should hang on to all the money I could, since I wasn’t sure how long it would be before I could get a job.” She gave Molly a thoughtful look. “So, how much are you paying me?”
“We’ll work it out in the morning.”
“Meals are part of the deal, right?”
Molly bit back a grin. “Yes.”
“And I can sleep here, too?”
“Yes. Were you by any chance a negotiator in a previous life?”
Kendra shrugged. “Just looking out for myself. If I don’t, who will?”
Indeed, Molly thought. Wasn’t that a lesson she’d had to learn the hard way?
* * *
The saddest eyes Daniel Devaney had ever seen stared back at him from the latest missing-child poster to cross his desk. Kendra Grace Morrow had huge, dark, haunted eyes. Only thirteen, according to the information on the fax, she looked older and
